


For Old Time's Sake

by carvedwhalebones (fuckyeahlucifersupernatural)



Category: Metal Gear, Metal Gear Solid
Genre: Body Worship, M/M, Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 18:59:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5176097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural/pseuds/carvedwhalebones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Big Boss pays a visit to Kaz on Mother Base, for old time's sake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Old Time's Sake

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Warning, there are some TPP spoilers! Proceed with caution! 
> 
> **MGS TUMBLR URL:** [beloveddisciple.tumblr.com](loveddisciple.tumblr.com)

_'I was spawned by war, but I don’t want to die in one.'_

His own words haunt him nearly a decade later, never before having rung so clearly until there was steel cutting deep into muscles and bone. The past nine years have tested him, the world hardly kind on Kazuhira. The recent month, however, has been unnaturally cruel. While he gritted his teeth and dug deep, holding onto the promise he once made to himself, he finds the promise, now, wishful thinking — masochistic, even. 

It would have been better if he died in that hovel with the others. He wishes they just put him out of his goddamn misery, but that’s not how war works. War leaves you in a permanent state of decay and he wonders if he is becoming his father, destined to live alone until the lasting effects of war pulls the trigger. The thought terrifies him. 

Kaz rubs at his brows, bathed in the darkness of his room, stretched out on the mattress. He can’t sleep and the toes on his nonexistent left foot are telling him they’re in pain. The best thing he can do is attempt to ignore it, biting down on his tongue. He knows the others are still up. He could find them, finish a few things around Mother Base — distract himself, but… The subcommander only throws his left arm over his eyes and keeps put, waiting for the phantom pain to pass.

As of late, he has become reclusive when not engaged in work. His strained relationship with Snake has only made him stubborn and unyielding, hardly keeping the heat from his words at bay during debriefings. He can’t stop himself, feeling himself spiral and stumble downward against his own violation. He can’t stop finding things to fight over, things to critique and ruminate until he sees enemies in everything and one. It leaves him drained and frazzled, forcing himself to give the illusion of composure when it becomes too much in the presence of others. He doesn’t know why he’s always so damn pissed and he’s too prideful to seek out help.

Unfortunately, Kaz’s poor relationship with Snake hasn’t gone unnoticed. It stretches the base and its occupants thin, the tension hardly beneficial for morale. No one likes to see their fearless leader and one of their subcommanders openly butt heads — 

_Click!_

The blond jolts to attention, brows pinched together and squinting in the dark towards the door. Did someone enter his room!? Only he has access to his quarters — _fuck_ , his heart is thumping madly in his throat that he nearly chokes on it. Is it Cipher? Did they find Mother Base? Quiet? His thoughts turn to his firearm right next to his bed, carefully turning onto his side and reaching out for it. Kaz’s jaw clenches when his eyes find an anomaly in the darkness. He can make out the outline of a bulky shape and gropes for the gun with a shaking hand, aiming — 

  “It’s _me_ , Kaz,” a familiar, gruff voice quickly intervenes. 

The blond issues out an irritated sound, but his body sags at the sound of Snake’s voice. He brows feel slick with sweat and he places the firearm down to wipe at them, scowling. 

Kaz takes the moment to laboriously pulls himself up into a sitting position, forcing himself to take deep breaths. There still lacks an explanation as to how Snake found access to his room and the need to wheedle the answer out of him gives him enough purpose to ignore the panic rising in his gut. Already, intrusive thoughts are wedging themselves into his shaken state and he digs his fingers into what is left of his upper arm. Kaz hunches forward and digs his fingers deeper, snapping out with bright irritation, _“Why the hell are you here, Boss?”_

Snake makes a confused sound, shuffling a bit forward with uncertainty. 

“ _Hmph_ ,” Snake makes a sound in realization after a few seconds of muted confusion, the sound falling into a drawn out hum in consideration. The sound is enough for Kaz to fixate his thoughts on, using it to gently tug and pull himself back to reality, Kaz sucking in the air violently before letting it rush out. The two of them remain still, the blond counting down from ten until he peers back up at the massive shape before him.   “I came to see you,” the older male explains, taking a cautionary step forward. 

Kaz is surprised. He’s not sure _why_ Snake would want to visit him. However, as much as he is at odds with the older male, as of right now, he’s grateful for the company. It’s best he’s not alone, for the moment.

“You can turn on the lights,” he lamely informs, his way of telling Snake that he can stay.

“No, it’s fine like this,” Snake returns, Kaz watching the dark mass only move closer to him, sitting on the edge of the bed. The blond sighs, quietly relieved. It’s safer in the dark. It’s safer like this. 

Snake is adjusting himself on the bed, turning his body so he can face Kaz. From here Kaz can make out the outline of his face and the curve of his mouth, nearly flinching when warm fingers blatantly seek out his hand. “Boss?” the younger male inquires, brows pinching together, unsure of whether to recoil from the touch or not.

Big Boss makes an incomprehensible sound, but his fingers remain and Kaz doesn’t pull his hand away. It takes a moment for him to give an approving ‘ _okay_ ’ before Snake is taking his hand in his. Kaz isn't sure what to say, let alone how to react. Snake is acting as if time hasn't passed or that there hasn't been moments where the two have squared off. This is an old, familiar act in a vastly different time. It takes a while before he can determine where he stands, willing to see where this goes. There are fingers tracing the rise and fall of his knuckles to the jutting of his wrist, nearly pulling him into a lull. It takes a moment for him to fully relax, to remember that this is a touch he once sought out fondly. To think that the last time they’ve done something like this was nearly a decade ago. He forgot what it was like… He never forgot them, he just forgot this. 

It’s painful to think that it’s no longer easy between them and their interactions are more maneuvering through landmines than open conversation. Kaz doesn't know what to do. Doesn’t know how to make this work anymore, yet Snake is still here. He still touches him anyways and the thought slackens the tension still remaining in his body. It inspires an idea - a possibility. Maybe they can do this and put aside their differences. Maybe they can try this out one more time, for old time’s sake.

Snake is busy running his fingers against the inside of his palm before they’re scaling his arm, finding his cheek. The older male’s hand settles there and Kaz sighs, leaning into it, closing his eyes. It’s gone too soon for his liking, Snake’s fingers drifting elsewhere to study his jaw line and the rise of his cheekbones. Kaz’s own hand moves to return the gesture, to map Snake out, but it’s being gently pushed aside. “No, it’s your turn,” is the only explanation he receives and Kaz gives a begrudging nod, his hand moving back to support himself. 

There are fingers tracing the arch of his brows to the bags under his eyes, Snake’s touch slow and reverent. He, instinctively, tilts his head back to expose his throat when fingers slip down to his Adam’s apple. The older male makes an appreciative sound at the gesture and, for a moment, they’re back in 1974 in Outer Heaven. His arm and leg feels whole and real, and he swears he can feel Snake’s left hand radiate heat when it lays on his right thigh. It should be more than impossible, but here they are. They’re both whole and something of a delirious chuckle leaves his mouth, refusing to open his eyes. 

Snake makes a curious sound in question, but Kaz shakes his head. He doesn’t know how to explain it and isn’t sure if he wants to break whatever trick he pulled his mind into.

“Memorizing me, Boss?” he teases, embracing the lighthearted air rising in his chest.

The older male answers with an amused huff, fingers rising back up to Kaz’s chin, “Something like that. Making up for lost time.” Kaz likes the sound of that, humming in content. A rough thumb runs across the curve of his lips and Kaz can feel his heartbeat pick up pace, once more. Snake’s thumb lingers on the swell of his bottom lip and the blond opens his eyes, willing to crumble this false sensation of wholeness if it means gauging Snake’s expression. He can’t make out much in the darkness, but is relieved the sensation of togetherness remains. He wants to chase it — to hold onto it — but Snake beats him to the punch, pressing his mouth against his.

It’s just as he remembered, Kaz thinks with a smirk. Snake still kisses like he’s stuck in the process of learning how, but his lack of tact is made up with that genuine _something_ that lurks in the corners of his mouth. This is what he misses the most. Kaz groans and sacrifices the hand keeping him supported to grab at Snake, fingers gripping at the front of what feels like a jacket. Arms encircle his waist and keep him upright and close, warm fingers sliding underneath the back of his shirt to explore his back. 

Kaz is the first to break the kiss, heaving for air and staring incredulously at the flash of teeth. “Kept you waiting, huh?” Snake comments and the subcommander can’t help it, he cracks a smile for Big Boss. He imagines there must be a grin on Snake’s face when the older male nudges at him, “Come on. Say it.” 

The blond laughs in disbelief, his own laughter sounding strange and foreign to his ears, “You’re really going to make me say it?” Kazuhira’s laughter dies into a chuckle, moving his hand so it’s holding onto Snake’s shoulder. “Can’t wait any longer,” he retorts back, earning an approving sound at their old rejoinder brought back to life. It’s hard to be upset or find a reason to be upset when they’re back together like this, even if it may be for a moment. He wants to know what inspired Boss to do this - to even see him.

Kaz moves his fingers towards the brunette’s neck, leaving the sturdiness of Snake’s shoulder, before his hand is being quickly ushered away. 

“Boss.” 

“It’s your turn,” is repeated and before he can debate the issue, he’s being coaxed to lay down on his back. It doesn’t stop him from cheating when he can, letting his fingers sneak up to brush against his arm as he feels his shirt being pushed up to his armpits. It’s innocent enough to not lead to reprimand, but whenever his fingers try to push itself into Snake’s hair or to trace the scars on his ear, his hand is being moved away. It’s frustrating, but he’s flattered, nonetheless, at the acute attention given to him. 

He basks in the light touches across his stomach, feeling it flutter when Snake’s facial hair scratches against it. The older male takes great care with the residual marks left on his body from Afghanistan, laboring with his mouth in worshiping each and every mark. Kaz can only feel grateful for the attention and the generous berth Snake gives to the areas where limbs are missing. It’s a place that even he avoids. 

Kaz has gone to great lengths to keep himself in this unhappy medium: refusing prosthetics, but frothing with rage every moment reminded of what has been lost. Keeping what he has lost covered, yet each step reminding him how vulnerable he is due to his injuries. He’s not ready to have those areas touched or explored, even by himself. The fact he isn’t pressed or has to explain himself sits well with him, closing his eyes and trusting Snake in this moment of vulnerability. 

“Remember when we met?” comes scratching out of Snake’s throat, Kaz giving a snort at the presented topic of conversation. He remembers. He remembers Colombia, the awful humidity, and managing to snag the position as drill sergeant for a band of revolutionaries. He never thought he’d come up against someone like Snake. 

“Not one of my finest moments, now that I’m looking back. If I was going to go out, I was going to go out with some speck of honor. Asked you to be my kaishaku, but I couldn’t stand to go out empty handed. Surprised you risked trying to keep the pin in place. Surprised you saved me…” Kazuhira admits, never quite sure to laugh at his stunt with the grenade or wince in embarrassment. He doesn't even want to elaborate on how his scheme to leave Snake's custody after the fact. 

Snake is rubbing at one of the larger scars underneath his belly button, giving an admonishing sound.  “ _We_ both kept the pin in place. Your hands were there, too,” he reminds. 

Kaz laughs, giving an agreeing sound at the end, “I suppose. My wounded ego says thanks. How much do I owe you for that one?”

Snake snorts, quiet for a while, before he’s laying his hand flat on Kazuhira’s stomach. “I’m sorry,” Snake’s voice breaks the comfortable silence, Kaz’s brows furrowed in question, an expression gone unseen in the dark. “Sorry that, this time, I pulled the pin.” 

Kaz's thoughts, instantly, return to his missing limbs and time spent being interrogated, issuing out a shaky sound. “It’s not your fault,” Kaz assures incredulously, “I chose to do that. My decision, my consequences. You had nothing to do with that and…” The blond takes a deep breath, issuing out firmly, heat beginning to rise in his throat, “I don’t regret it. I’d still do it, even knowing the outcome of it all.” 

Snake only sighs out his name and presses a messy kiss into the corner of his mouth. It feels like a dismissive gesture to the blond, frowning at the dark shape before him. He reaches out, again, to Big Boss, catching the side of his face. His hand isn’t moved and he takes advantage of it, his own fingers finding scars and grooves, greedily taking it, trying to share some message to Snake through touch. The blond sighs when he only feels the creases of Snake's features deepen, moving his fingers to comb through the older male’s hair, surprised when his fingers fail to hit metal. That’s odd, letting his hand drift back to seek it out again.

“Time is up,” Snake quietly informs, suddenly, pulling away from Kaz’s hand. Kaz gives a sound in protest, but a hand is affectionately patting his hip before he feels Snake leave the bed.

“Boss,” Kaz implores out in dismay. It feels too soon. _“Snake,”_ he tries again, but the door is sliding open and the blond winces at the light bleeding into the room. Kaz is forced to turn his head away from the door, moving his hand to shield his eyes. “You don’t have to leave,” he assures and when the door closes and he looks up, Snake is gone. By the time he manages to grab his brace and coax his body to move, he's frowning at the empty hallway. 

To add upon Kazuhira's dismay and confusion, he finds Snake the next morning denying he even saw him the other day, let alone visited him in his quarters. The older male won't budge on the matter, opting for frowning and shaking his head when Kaz won't accept his words. It leaves him humiliated and irritated. So much for old time’s sake…

**Author's Note:**

> _Love it? Hate it? Tell me in a review!_
> 
>  
> 
>  **A/N:** In my beautiful world, Naked visited Kaz at least once....


End file.
